


melody of a memory

by am doing a breakthrough science (acceptnosubstitutes)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Also fluff, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Name Calling, Oral Sex, Self-Lubrication, Shadow tentacles, Threesomes, abuse of em-dash, fangs and claws, minor potential body horror, minor spoilers for shadows: through his eyes, partial body transformations, weird dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28471830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acceptnosubstitutes/pseuds/am%20doing%20a%20breakthrough%20science
Summary: Azem's attention flicks to Hades, freeing up one hand to twist and curl his fingers inward. With the motion the shadows burst into reality. Tentacles of wisped shade seeking out Hythlodaeus as if honed in on his very aether.They curl up around every free patch of skin they can - arms, thighs, curving round his neck and slithering down to hug the fullness of his cock. Squeeze and stroke. Slide and glide.In the haze of voices stirring and rumbling, some low, whispered, hissed eldritch tongue only the two of them fully comprehend, heat rising, hit of deep, musky sex scent striking Azem hard and making his head spin - he fumbles a hand inside his own pants.Well, shit. Mark him down as scaredandhorny.(Alternate title, "it's a lot, the fic")
Relationships: Azem/Hythlodaeus (Final Fantasy XIV), Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	melody of a memory

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so happy new years yo, this is just nearly 5k of unrepentant filth of my favorite ffxiv variety. Enjoy.

Fresh from the baths, hair still mildly damp and smelling strongly of borrowed scents - mint, bergamot, seawater tones - Hythlodaeus tugs a scowling Hades by the hood into his own bedroom.

"- not even scant time given to recover from cleaning up your latest mess," Hades in full rant mode, "which, might I remind, Lahabrea tasked _you_ -"

Hythlodaeus shares a friendly eye roll with Azem, whom Hades has yet to notice in his agitation, dragging their moody companion on over.

"Yes, yes, dear. And might _I_ remind _you_ , I fulfilled my obligations to our lovely speaker by seeking out a most eminently capable mage worthy of the task. Namely, you."

"Namely, me," Hades mocks, scowl deepening. "Are you aware of the difficulties involved in extracting a soul from a host? The slightest, simplest miscalculation and resultant trauma may not surface for lifetimes."

Azem leans over the back of his chair, grinning. Better interrupt him now or they might be in it for the whole lecture. Plenty more scandalous things they could be getting up to instead.

"Hello, Hades. Had an encounter with a firebird, eh?"

Hades turns his direction, gold eyes narrowing at the sight of him. 

"Azem." Back to Hythlodaeus, Hades prods him in the chest. "What are you two scheming?"

Hythlodaeus affects mock hurt, wrapping his arms around Hades' neck and pulling him close.

"Scheming! 'Tis but humble offering. A gift. Addressing the balance. Repayment, in ways only we can achieve."

As he speaks, he presses brief kisses to Hades' neck, trailing up the side just under his jaw where he leans in and whispers something Azem doesn't catch. 

Hades reacts strongly. Stares at him. Then winds a hand in his hair and pulls Hythlodaeus around to catch his mouth in a bruising hold, arm around his waist clutching close.

Huh. Quick turn around. Azem stays seated where he is, content to watch them part for breath but stay near each other. He knows, in part, of what Hythlodaeus has in mind though not how he plans to achieve it.

The two of them share a uniqueness of sight, common among Amaurotines yet not to the sharpness of Azem's friends. His lovers. Their eyes see, as they put it, the radiance of life itself writ across every individual they meet. Even those souls who have passed on, moving along that mysterious, drifting presence where all life begins, ends, renews: the lifestream.

Of the two, Hythlodaeus' sight seems keener, yet Hades the one with the ability to shape, mold and merge. Bring to bear from the intangible to the physical realm, such that he resembles a denizen of the underworld itself. And when brought together? 

According to Hythlodaeus, it makes for unpredictable results.

"When you said weird," Azem says, "were we talking off the walls, kinky shit? Or well, _your_ shit?"

"The walls might be involved," Hythlodaeus muses, tugging on Hades' robes, "hard to know for sure. There was that one time. Hades, you remember how long we were stuck?"

Hades' cheeks turn a brilliant crimson. "Not another word. You're a terror, Hyth."

Hythlodaeus smiles.

"Guilty as charged. Now do stop stalling."

Azem follows the trajectory of robes shed. Thrown over the shoulder and without thought. Pants don't even make it that far. One pair stumbled out of, left on the floor. The other tangles around a bedpost and slumps down in solidarity. Underthings - he perks up - sail overhead, catching a lantern before sliding off.

Hythlodaeus pushes Hades into black, silk sheets, a soft mattress, climbing on top of him and following him down.

Presses their mouths together time and again. Open mouthed, sloppy, messy exchanges that leave Hades breathing raggedly.

"You pest," he croaks, "single minded degenerate."

His eyes - shining. Gleaming. Gold reduced to thin discs around pupils blown wide. 

"Heathen."

From his vantage point, Azem only assumes Hythlodaeus tangles their tongues together the way he does their fingers, thrusting them deep into the bed. Muscles in his shoulders flexing so pleasingly as he arches and moves.

"Deviance incarnate," Hades gasps out, when his tongue is his own again.

Yet for all his bark, he sinks fingers deep in ash silver hair and yanks Hythlodaeus back down, sealing their mouths again under a waterfall of white-grey.

Hythlodaeus throws an arm out Azem's general direction, snapping his fingers. Catches the vial thrown his way by a quick glance and mostly sound alone, detaching from a dazed Hades.

Knees brace in the sheets just so they can both see him yank the cork out with his teeth, dump its contents all over his fingers. Slowly slip one gingerly inside himself.

Hythlodaeus closes his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. Tongue slips out to moisten his lips the deeper he goes. The addition of another finger - a flash of teeth biting down and as he speeds up, spreads and scissors, plunging in, pulling up - sighs out real nice, long.

Azem hums. "Give that ten out of ten, alone. Choice."

Hades groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. Reddened cheeks.

"Perverts, the both of you."

Hythlodaeus slides down on Hades gradually, inch by inch until he bottoms out knees sinking deep into the mattress, hands planted against Hades' chest for balance.

Undulates his hips, slow, building a rising rocking rhythm that has Hades digging fingers into him for dear life, mouth dropping open and staying that way over gasping breaths. 

Hythlodaeus lifts up completely, sliding back down to the hilt in one smooth, controlled movement. Tears deep groans out of the both of them.

But Azem stares at the walls. Focusing on cast shadows morphing and lengthening. Growing out thin, spindly arms reaching and climbing and clambering over each other toward the bed.

"Uh. Um, guys? There's some real weird shit over -"

Hythlodaeus, in the middle of slamming down on Hades once more, tilts his head back Azem's direction. Almost _unnaturally_ so. Eyes aglow an eerie, crimson red far from their normal, pale honey mead. His grin, full of teeth. And are those? Fangs?

Azem's attention flicks to Hades, freeing up one hand to twist and curl his fingers inward. With the motion the shadows burst into reality. Tentacles of wisped shade seeking out Hythlodaeus as if honed in on his very aether. 

They curl up around every free patch of skin they can - arms, thighs, curving round his neck and slithering down to hug the fullness of his cock. Squeeze and stroke. Slide and glide.

Encourage Hythlodaeus to impale himself time and again, which he does with fervor. Great abandon.

In the haze of voices stirring and rumbling, some low, whispered, hissed eldritch tongue only the two of them fully comprehend, heat rising, hit of deep, musky sex scent striking Azem hard and making his head spin - he fumbles a hand inside his own pants.

Well, shit. Mark him down as scared _and_ horny.

There's a certain lull at some point. Azem not sure when, occupied as he is and only half paying attention to the two of them slowing down again.

Hades strokes idly at Hythlodaeus. Down his flanks, criss crossing back up his ribs with the pads of his fingers. Smearing, pooling slick sweat, slippery tracks glistening in his wake.

"Yeah," Hythlodaeus says, "yeah, yeah. Go ahead."

Hades swallows. 

Shadow tentacles slacken, loosening, but not withdrawing completely. 

"Azem. Get over here."

And that's Hades, Azem's at least aware, lolling his head onto his shoulder. Blinking at them. Gets a real great angle at how spread, how deeply split open Hythlodaeus is on Hades there. Hades is wider than either of his lovers, at least in that department. A real nice thickness. A heft. Work of art, that cock.

Azem rolls his tongue around in his mouth, turning his wrist just past the point of minor cramping, fingers alternately catching and slipping across heated skin. The beginnings of precome. Wonder where Hythlodaeus dropped that bottle. If there's aught left of it's contents and -

Hades gives exasperated sigh, snapping fingers for an unnoticed party of shadows at Azem's feet producing similar tentacles to the ones that still ensnare Hythlodaeus. They serpentine climb Azem's leg, winding around the arm keeping him from obeying their master's orders. Yank, pull him stumbling, hopping over one legged till he can shrug off his pants and smalls before he trips gracelessly on his face.

"Azem do this, Azem do that," he grumbles, swinging around to pout, "when is it going to be _my_ tu-"

The word dies in his throat. As does his breath, choking a little on sudden lack of saliva he has to work his throat to produce more.

The tentacles wrapped around Hythlodaeus' cock squeeze again, drawing it up against his stomach, much to his satisfied sigh. 

Hades spreads his palms into the meat of Hythlodaeus' inner thighs, slowly spreading them open. Watching him ever closely, every minute shifting expression.

"Inform me," he insists, "the moment it becomes too much."

And what for! Because Azem is watching Hades _growing_ inside him. Steadily, gradually. Shifts as his partner's back arches, using the wisped shadows to effortlessly lay Hythlodaeus in half-reclined repose midair above the bed.

"Is your dick turning purple?!"

Azem's fascinated despite his initial concern, reassured by their breathless laughter, the larger and wider Hades keeps pushing. The way Hythlodaeus twists and squirms for it, and for him.

Ever so slowly the shadows lower Hythlodaeus back to his former position, twisting and twinning, lovingly, as living rope around him once seemingly certain he can support his own weight again.

Hades sighs out, watching the point where he feeds into his partner, who scrambles for Azem's arm.

"Be a dear, Azem," he murmurs, distracted, "and assist. Will you not?"

What? The thought sails in one ear and then out the other about the same time Hythlodaeus finally connects with his shoulder. Shoves down and forward with a strength he shouldn't possess at that angle, swinging Azem into the bed and himself down Hades an inch. Two more.

"That's right, just like that," Hades breathes, touching Hythlodaeus like something precious, "good, so good for me you perfect, terrifying thing."

Here, so close, Azem's senses kick into overdrive. Smell - sweat and sex, ozone. Tastes that particular crackle tang of magic that, previously this morning, he would've assumed Hades sole proprietor now bounding freely between the two of them. 

Azem's hearing - overtaken by Hythlodaeus' gasping, whining cries and a heady, primal almost living, steady thrum underneath it all. Can't blink but for sight of explosions of drifting color in the air. Bursting clouds purple, green and gold twisting, melding, fusing.

Azem eyes where they connect too, and. Hmm. He's just. So big. There's only so much a body can take, yet incredulously, Hythlodaeus takes all Hades can give him.

"You sure you don't want anything," he asks him, bracing himself under his hand again, "like a shit ton more lube? A break? A new back?"

Hythlodaeus huffs, fondly, squeezing his shoulder. "Don't make me laugh, right now," he whispers, "too, hmm. Too much. Just. Feel, right, right down _there_."

Right down? Oh. Well. Azem shrugs to no one, reaching between Hythlodaeus' legs and right up against his entrance. Pausing to shared shuddering moans, both likely highly sensitive to any sort of pressure there, but even that short break is enough to drench his fingers in slick fluid.

"What in the -"

More of the same gleams on Hythlodaeus' skin, rolling down the inside backs of his legs and smearing over Hades as well. Impossible to tell from whom it originates.

"Real weird shit," Azem mutters, wiping his fingers on the sheets, "just, I mean. I _know_ you told me but shit. Shit, shit, holy _shit_."

Azem watches, still dumbly supporting his descent and wondering _where it's all going_ , really, the wisped shadow tentacles lowering again so Hades can press his palm against Hythlodaeus' stomach. Feeling out the outline of himself through walls of smooth muscle.

Azem's outburst attracts a grasping hand, trying to pull him near.

"C'mere," Hythlodaeus, at the meeting point with Hades again, where he stays, breathing heavily and unmoving, "mind the fangs, unless you like blood."

Any excuse to kiss one of them, even if he risks injury in thus doing. Likes the idea of that danger, climbing onto the bed and into the midst of unbridled chaos. Has to lean up even here because the bastard's too damn tall otherwise. But worth it, yes, to touch, to feel, avoiding those sharp, pointy bits for inner wet heat and fire.

Azem presses their foreheads together, exhaling against his cheek. Sidles a glance at Hades, watching them in heavy interest.

"May I?"

He directs their gazes down.

"Such a pity," Azem says, mock innocent, "all tied up but left one loose end. Who am I but to volunteer?"

Hades blinks. Then smirks, withdrawing the shadows from Hythlodaeus' cock, and redoubling them around his arms behind his back.

"I'll be here some time," he remarks, idly stroking at Hythlodaeus again before backing off. "Make it a show, hmm?"

And Azem looks up at Hythlodaeus, cheeky grin to half-lidded red eyes, listing head. Comes back alive, alert to the sound of Azem's voice.

"Heya. Wanna jerk off while swallowing you down, buddy. Game?"

" _Yes_."

That response more hissed than spoken, and despite the fact it shouldn't be possible for him to hiss (a lot of things that shouldn't be possible, but are, here tonight) Azem shrugs it off.

Bit of an awkward angle without fully climbing all over Hades, but Azem makes do. Only hesitates briefly before collecting more of that weird, slick fluid and liberally coating Hythlodaeus with it.

"Take your time, dearest Azem," Hades suggests. That particular look in his eyes when he's enjoying himself immensely. "Shame on you to deny him even the smallest, sweetest ecstasy should it take a fair bell. Or more? To wring the highest pleased sighs from those lips."

Is that how he wants to play this? Ah. Heh. Yes, Azem can get behind that. Not often they get to turn the tables on Hythlodaeus so completely. So totally.

Who seems to be wising up to their plot, rolling his head back in their direction and squinting down at them.

"Not fair," he murmurs, "oh, not fair. You'll both, ha, pay for this."

Neither of his lovers doubt the open threat. That's the fun of it all. Even if Hades will grumble and complain about whatever revenge Hythlodaeus fashions for this "injustice."

In the meantime, Hades kneads his fingers back into Hythlodaeus' inner thighs, spreading them open ever slightly more. Rolls his own hips up into him, only once, but the change in angle is enough to make the air leave Hythlodaeus all at once.

Azem gentles hold of him as they resettle, listening to those panting breaths quicken the more he twists his wrist.

"Won't make this easy for you," Hythlodaeus warns him.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Azem chuckles, turning so that the calluses on his palm shift and rub against heated, slick skin. 

That's nice, this giving, allowing Azem to watch him breathe in deeply, pull a little at the restraints holding him still.

"Oh, I think not," Hades says, tightening them again, "hmm. Shall I assist, Azem?"

How he intends to do so, flat on his back, and otherwise interconnected is beyond the traveler, but far be it for Azem to deny either of them their heart's whims.

He does, however, catch Hythlodaeus' gaze. Winks. Before taking him down slowly, wrapping tongue around and sucking in his cheeks.

Hythlodaeus straight up swears. And Azem can't help but laugh, knowing the vibrations only make the prison vice of his mouth that much worse. Tongue kept to licking long, lasting passes. Lightest pressure he can manage.

His free hand wanders to stroke at his own cock, spurred on by Hades' low voice.

"There you are, yes, so very molten fire for my touch. How silken tight magnificence. That you tremble for me, need for me, want _this_ , I-I," he pauses to swallow hard, reaching out shaking hand to stroke his skin, "would that I could spend all my days here, buried under you supplicant in prayer."

Even as he focuses his attention on Hythlodaeus, there's definitely Hades' fingers carding through Azem's hair - nails elongated and sharpened like claws - carefully petting and stroking.

Azem needs no encouragement to swallow him as far back as he can work him, work them both, till Hythlodaeus hits the back of his throat. 

" _Yes_ ," breathes Hades, on the arrival of an overwhelmed, broken wail, "now, Azem. Take him."

The weight of his cock on Azem's tongue, smell of him so intimately close. And the sight of his head tipping back, mouth falling open, the delicious notes of sound spilling forth - knowing that he brought him there to the brink almost distracts him from movement underneath Hythlodaeus' skin. 

Almost. 

But muscle and tendon shouldn't elongate and stretch like that. Bones not crunch snap, reorient themselves _by themselves_. The magma red, bright fire that illuminates swirling, arcane glyphs flaring to life across Hythlodaeus' skin as though he were little more than canvas for an aspiring artist of spellwork.

"Beautiful," whispers Hades, watching it all with feverish devotion, "so damn beautiful."

Azem does not understand, though he does feel the exchange of magic fluctuate through them all now. Hits hard. Fast. He's not sure which one of the two of them comes first, thrusting hard into his fist the same time he fights to swallow all he's given.

That same, incomprehensible eldritch tongue comes stuttering from Hythlodaeus' lips, answered in kind by Hades. Azem sits up, breathing roughly, only to glance around in mild alarm.

The floor's a moving field of shadow, creeping out from under the bed, all around the room. Roving, clambering, climbing multitudes all converging up and up.

One thick arm separates from the group and picks Azem up around the waist, as if he weighs nothing. Gently deposits him on a free patch of ground as the wave rushes on, returning to throng with its brethren all around obscuring both of his lovers completely.

Within moments there's the slap of skin on skin again but the beat of it is too rough, too harsh, hard and fast, surely, for either to be enjoying it as throatily as they seem.

Azem begins to suspect, such as trends in a remarkable amount of endeavors in his life, when Hythlodaeus told him about this sort of lovemaking and its unpredictability he did not, in fact, consider what that might actually mean. 

Then again, who exactly would consider expanding member size, fangs and claws, weird ass shadow tentacles, and slightly (definitely, yes, _definitely_ ) terrifying body transformations at all related to seeing aether? Certainly not Azem. 

Maybe it's not. He's seen Hades in his full on, massive ascended mage form. The unfathomable, bleeding power dripping from every pore. Did it feel like this? Could he change another person's fundamental form? Or does it only work with Hythlodaeus, because of shared strengths?

Azem's giving himself a headache. Weird shit. It's enough.

All he hears now, humming drone, in every direction, rising in pitch builds to shrieking until he winces and covers his ears, turning his head. For what good it does. Instinct, perhaps.

Until there's a bunching snap, a series of crunching crashes breaking through the endless wail.

Azem blinks. Turns around and sure enough, they've broken the damn bed somehow yet are still at it. Rolling together, pressed touching, kissing in one long, unbroken breath neither have come up yet for air. Nor do they as the seconds tick by.

Well, all right then.

At least they've separated, er, below the belt. So to speak. Where things seem more or less normal again. 

Annnnd someone's actually hammering at the apartment door. Loudly. Insistently. Continuously.

Azem climbs to his feet, peering into the mess of moving limbs.

"Gonna get that," he asks, rather loudly, "or should I?"

Neither answer. Nor did Azem really expect them to, but he still makes a production of finding his pants and what smalls he thinks probably belong to him on the floor. Does not remember shucking either, but there they are so must he have.

Grouches and grumbles pulling them both on. Not really worth figuring out which robes are his, given how truly fervently whoever's at the door has decided to amp up their efforts to be heard.

It's...it's going to be readily apparent what went on here whether Azem's fully dressed or not. And there are truly only a particular amount of _red masked_ individuals and the one oddball currently tangled up in Hades' arms that would generally visit Emet-Selch's apartments anyway.

" _I am coming_!"

Of course, their guest could do well to be anyone else other than the fucking, smirking majestic. Nabriales. Just. Spectacular.

Despite earlier considerations, for once Azem finds himself missing his mask. Can only imagine his face burns near as red as his messy, disheveled hair the way Nabriales looks him up and down. 

No mask, no robes, shirtless, barefoot and smelling distinctly like he'd just had sex in an apartment very much not his own. Never gonna live this down but, whatever. Add it to the tally.

Azem crosses his arms over his bare chest. 

"Yes, hi, hello," he says all in a rush, clearing his throat, " _what_. What do you want?"

"Hmm," Nabriales muses, "if you aren't the source..."

"What? Hey, you can't just -"

Ah, fuck it. Nabriales doesn't listen to him, breezing past Azem toward the bedroom where he _definitely_ doesn't need to be. Azem's just considering the ramifications of tackling a fellow convocation member into drywall when Nabriales stops short, whistling low and in what sounds like admiration of whatever he's seeing.

It occurs to Azem he most probably did not close the bedroom door when he left. A sentiment echoed by a series of groans that sound suspiciously like -

Azem leans up on tippy toes to peer over Nabriales' shoulder, eyes widening.

He was barely gone maybe five minutes? And in that time Hades is on his back again, buried to the hilt inside Hythlodaeus. Looks like they're about to set up for another go around.

"How," he sputters, "how do either of you have _anything_ left? How are you even hard again so soon?!"

"Yes," echoes the majestic, clearly amused, "do tell."

Hythlodaeus flips Nabriales off without looking at him, much to his even more delighted cackling. Rocks forward into the beginning of a punishing routine.

"Told you," he grunts, the effort to maintain that pace, "weird shit. Get him out of here."

Azem shuts the door on his growl, answered by Hades in a number of hoarse groans, that whispering starting again. _Fuck_. 

Nabriales crosses his arms, turning to face Azem. There's mirth underlying his tone even if the traveler can't see all of his face.

"Well, well, kinky shit the lot of you get up to, hmm? Dear me, when I drew the short mask to investigate this sudden flare up of auras - Emet-Selch and some unknown interloper - I half expected to walk into a warzone."

He raises an eyebrow, both turning on the door hearing a series of crashes behind it.

"Still not sure I haven't."

"You felt that all the way from the capitol bloc?" Azem cocks his head. "Wait. Interloper? How didn't you recognize Hythlo?"

"Are you joking? Feel his aura. Go on."

Azem concentrates, and. Oh. Now he understands.

Because it feels far from normal. Almost _feral_. Roiling, hungry, seething and unknowable - billowing out and bottomless at the same time.

Azem breathes out slowly when he regains his senses. 

" _Yeah_. Quite. Little far from playful, eh? If I hadn't noticed you, might've thought Emet-Selch was out here fighting for his life." Nabriales huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "Not just getting his back blown out in spectacular fashion. Bit of free advice: aether dampening wards are your friend, Azem."

Azem crosses his arms again. He hasn't been traveler long, but long enough to know the word 'free' and Nabriales don't belong in the same sentence. 

"What do you want?"

And there's that damn smirk again.

"Absolutely nothing! Only know, your friend? Hythlodaeus. Just became a _lot_ more interesting."

The fuck does that mean? Nabriales doesn't elaborate, even to Azem's narrowed eyes. Or at least until he does.

"Are you three exclusive?"

Azem really can't have heard him right, but when his brain catches up to his ears, he swings for red. A punch Nabriales easily sidesteps, still laughing.

"Pity," he shrugs, "I think I might've greatly enjoyed him. Eh. C'est la vie."

Voices drift through the door from the room beyond, eerily melodiously melding together almost as one. Calling Azem back.

Yes, and he'd really rather be in there curled up in the middle of their warmth, their hands and mouths on him, enjoying the press of their bodies so near and being enjoyed in turn. Rather than out here, beginning to shiver in the remarkably cooler air.

Nabriales waves him off when he opens his mouth to suggest the majestic fuck the fuck off, please, in the nicest way he can manage given the bastard literally just came on to one of Azem's lovers. 

Must maintain somewhat civil workplace relationships. Yes. Probably. 

"Go to them. Far be it for me to stand in the way of a good time. Even so rudely denied. I'll think of something when the others ask. Ta."

Leaving Azem staring after his retreating back until he hears the front door open and shut again. Not a great idea to leave explaining all this up to Nabriales but honestly, Azem grasps at straws for something other than hot, weird threesome sex that got a little out of control and "look, seriously, it's all Hyth's fault." 

But that's a problem for future Azem. Present Azem only has plans to borrow between his lovers and a burning curiosity to know just what Hythlodaeus is doing to him to make Hades moan quite that loudly.

So he can repeat it. Multiple times. Turnabout is fair play, after all. Teasing Hades makes for ever so much fun.  


* * *

The next morning finds Azem bleary eyed and aching, stretching out his full length in a bed noticeably lower in height than usual. Right, because it's still on the ground.

Between the three of them, they had enough energy to take separate showers - had needed to, after all that - create new sheets and clean up the room (marginally). But Hades took one look at repairing the bed before morning with typical flair. Complained about the state of it, then face planted into its soft caress, groaning.

Azem curls into his back, pressing his cold nose into the curve of Hades' neck. He tries to swat at Azem but early morning drowsiness lacks coordination. Turns over and buries into the traveler instead, arm around his waist, slotting a leg between his. Smushes his face up against Azem's chest, mumbling incoherently.

Azem chuckles. Presses kisses into his white hair.

"Cuddly this morning? Not that I'm complaining."

He gropes the bed behind him, mildly surprised not already finding his more notoriously physically affectionate lover pressed to his side. Likely why he woke up in the first place. Strange to think a lack of long, silver hair in his mouth, enough to pull Azem from dead sleep but it's the little things. 

Common gripe when he travels far Amaurot, actually. Pity it would take far too much energy to summon Hythlodaeus halfway across the world just for a good night's sleep and home again. Besides the fact he's much needed in the city. So Azem suffers.

"Hmm? Where's Hyth?"

"Being horribly _perky_ ," Hades mutters against his collarbone.

He doesn't elaborate, but it sounds well trodden ground.

"I heard that."

Azem pulls away from Hades, grinning at his sleepy pout, to locate Hythlodaeus by the door. Already fully dressed, hair neatly brushed and braided over one shoulder, looking much too alert and refreshed for what took place less than twenty-four bells ago.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Hades again, deigning to finally sit up and look at him himself. "That he may expend that much energy yet simply sleep it off as though it were nothing. Wake up for _more_."

Hades glares across the room at Hythlodaeus. Well ruins the effect by nature of rumpled sleep robes, hair a twisted bird's nest of disheveled. The outstretched arms demanding affection.

"Go make breakfast, you insatiable whore."

But when Hades has him in his arms he drags him near instead of pushing him away, leaning up to kiss him long enough they both breathe a little more heavily by the time they part.

"And you call me the whore," Hythlodaeus murmurs, pushing up and away. 

"Pancakes, Azem? I seem to recall we also still have a store of fresh fruit around. Maybe some of that grape juice you love so much too."

The moment he leaves the room Hades drops back down, pulling a chuckling Azem into the bundle of blankets with him. They stay like that, lazily petting and kissing into late morning hours surrounded in comfort and warmth. 

Rising, wafting aroma of powdered sugar drifting by on the air. Notes of warm blueberry, chocolate and cinnamon. Tangy citrus fruits. Crack of eggs. And under it all, Hythlodaeus' voice, carrying along the melody of some song as he works.

This? Yeah. For all the sights and wonders of the road Azem walks, the fascinating people he meets along the way? There's nothing quite like coming home. To Amaurot. And to them.


End file.
